Recently, I found myself apologising to a group we were travelling with because I wanted to go inside to be with Amelia after dark. I was torn between being social and being with my daughter. Some might think that’s an easy decision, but it's much harder if you are a serial people pleaser.
The internal chatter of a people-pleaser can go something like this: "What will they think? I want to keep the peace. I don’t want people to get upset. If they are happy, then I am happy. If I don’t stay here, they might not like me or socialise with me again." The chatter is endless.
But for the first time, I stopped mid-apology and said to the lady, “Actually, I’m not sorry. I want to go be with my daughter now. Good night.” And you know what happened? She smiled and said, "Absolutely."
What?! No drama, no judging? She understood, and I felt great saying what I wanted to do—spending time with my daughter without any guilt of not being available for someone else. It was a revelation!
It’s funny when I think of all the years spent people-pleasing, the reality is that we are so busy pleasing everyone else that we forget who we should focus on. So, when did pleasing the wrong people become right?
We must return to where it all began to find the answer within ourselves.
When I think about it, a very clear memory comes up. I was young, about six or seven years old. It was late; I was already in my pyjamas, and my mum and dad had returned from a work function they had attended. My mum looked upset, and I remember going into the kitchen to check on her as I could hear her crying. She kept saying, "He didn’t dance with me."
Now, I need to let you know that my mum and dad’s relationship was rocky, to say the least. As an adult, I can say that their divorce was the best thing to have happened—they found actual love in other partners, and I saw our parents happy. But at six years old, I only wanted to see my mum and dad love each other. I was desperate for it. So, I went to my mum. She was so upset. I wanted to fix it. I didn’t like seeing her cry, and that was my first moment of thinking, "I need to make her happy; I need to stop her tears." I told her, “The last dance was for you, Mum. He does love you.” She smiled and hugged me, and I felt good. I made her happy, and it felt incredible. I liked it.
I wanted to feel it again. What made people smile? What did they like? I learnt that pleasing people made me feel good. When I got good grades, did well in extracurricular activities, did things for others, followed my friends, or worked a little harder at my first jobs, when I got the "well done" claps—I felt great.
In high school, I saw the power of pleasing people, losing myself in others' identities and doing things I knew would make them happy, and it worked. Yay, I made someone happy—it's my turn to be happy now.
As I moved into adult life, I knew I loved making people happy, doing something for others, and being someone they could rely on. I enjoyed the praise from work and being a “great employee.” My motto was to do the extra hours and be recognised. I worked hard. The external validation was palpable, and I wanted to get the dopamine hit it gave me. I often put many hours and extra time into my job, forgetting people at home. I would change plans to ensure we could work around other people’s needs, often losing sight of what my little family needed first.
However, as the years passed, the feeling of making people happy and the dopamine hit from external validation started to dwindle. It didn’t fill me up as much. I started to resent that people didn’t return the favour when I needed it or didn’t think of me and my family in their decisions. Did I not please them enough? I would get agitated when someone didn’t repeat the same actions. "Why did they not think of us?" I’d hear myself say and then swear never to do that again (until the next time). But, honestly, I should have taken a page from their book because I should put myself and my little family first, no matter what, and focus on pleasing us first, not the whole world.
It has taken me 42 years to finally stop mid-apology and do what I wanted to do for myself and my family, what would please me. I felt I had no obligation to please someone else and didn’t require external validation to feel worthy. And nobody hated me; nobody stopped talking to me. The next day, I had a lovely day with them and finally gave up the people-pleasing persona.
While travelling around Australia, I asked the grey nomads what advice they would give me, and they all said, “Do what makes you happy.” I think I have finally understood what they are saying. I believe they have been trying to tell me to stop making everyone happy around me, focus on what is important, and do what makes me happy inside. Your obligation is to yourself, not others.
So, how do you quieten the people-pleaser in you? Firstly, that night, I realised that I wasn’t obliged to keep everyone happy, only myself and the ones I love. Secondly, I was clear on my non-negotiables and what was important to me. Thirdly, I was determined to focus on my internal validation for my actions because, at the end of the day, I needed to be happy with how I behaved that day.
If you ever find yourself in the tug-of-war of people-pleasing, ask yourself, "Is this for me and my family, or am I trying to please someone else?” If the answer is someone else and you know deep inside it doesn’t feel right to you, trust yourself. Stop and do the right thing. If the person in front of you gets upset, angry, or stops speaking to you, they are not part of your story. But if they turn around, smile, and say, “Absolutely,” then you know they respect your boundaries and are meant to be in your life.
Oscar Wilde once said, “Be yourself; everyone else is already taken.” Embrace who you are and find your internal validation, for it is only then that you can truly live a happy life.
As women, we have a history of people-pleasing, of being everything to everyone. But it may be time to put yourself first, to understand your values, beliefs, and your own identity. And if you need a little help with that, reach out for a chat.